


a man in uniform

by insomniacjams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Top!Liam, bottom!Zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2343212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is a security guard at a shopping mall.<br/>Zayn works at the burger place.<br/>Sex happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a man in uniform

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote myself a birthday present.
> 
> This hasn't been beta read, it was just for fun, yup.  
> Hope you like it.

"You missed a button," Louis said when he walked into work that day. "Go open the front." Zayn sighed, fixed the buttons on his shirts, and started flicking on the switches to the warmers up front. 

It wasn't a glorious job; when he was young, if someone had told him he'd be in America at eighteen asking people if they wanted fries with their meal, working for a burger joint that tried too hard to be McDonalds, he would've laughed.

But when he was young, he hadn't planned on being expelled from school at sixteen after getting caught having sex with his gym teacher in the toilets, so there was that.

However, it wasn't all bad. In the process of running away from the shit-storm of rumours that chased him from his hometown, he'd made a handful of close friends and built himself a new life – a new life in a shit flat with a minimum wage job at a fast food joint in a shopping mall food court, but a new life nonetheless.

In fact, if there was one thing that wasn't bad at all about this life Zayn had, it was opening the restaurant with his boss and best friend, Louis, every Saturday morning – because every Saturday morning, without fail…

"Good morning, Zayn." 

Without fail, every Saturday morning, Liam stopped by before he started his shift for a cup of (shit) coffee and hung around long enough to keep Zayn company while he completed his opening duties.

"Morning, Li," Zayn tried not to smile too hard (because it was 7 on a Saturday morning, and any sort of facial expression that wasn't a weary scowl would be out of place). He turned around and as he did every week, he poured Liam a cup from the fresh brewed pot of coffee.

Zayn loved seeing Liam in the mornings like this, his hair neatly styled, his t-shirt clinging to the taunt muscles of his chest, sipping the bitter coffee without cream or sugar – he loved seeing Liam casually leaning against his counter, smiling at Zayn like he was more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, which was nice, since he didn't get that a lot at a job where he wore a nametag and a hat that said "Paul's Burgers" on it in Comic Sans.

Liam was a senior security officer at Westwood Center; he'd been around forever, according to Louis, although apparently his affinity for the coffee at Paul's was a recent development. "He just wants to fuck you," Louis said repeatedly, and that would've been nice, if Zayn had believed it, because he would've loved to fuck Liam too, but Liam could do much better than a lowly fast food worker – could do better than him.

"Think it'll be busy today?" Liam asked, making idly conversation. Zayn paused his actions to look up, smiling.

"It's always busy on Saturdays."

"Right," Liam said, a light blush creeping up on his cheeks. "So, uh," he paused to take the lid off his coffee, letting it cool. He tossed a stir stick into it, though he didn't add any cream or sugar, almost as if he wanted something to do with his hands. "Got anything exciting planned for the weekend?"

"Not really," Zayn said, pulling out the sauces and lining them up appropriately on the counter as he spoke. "I mean, I work all weekend, so uh, yeah. I'm usually too tired to do much – I'll probably just watch movies at home; order a pizza or something."

"Sounds relaxing," Liam chuckled. "My friends always want to go out to the clubs or something, which is nice once in a while, but every Saturday is a bit much." Zayn nodded in agreement. 

"I haven't had much time to go to the clubs since I moved here. I've got to work my arse off to cover my rent and food; working 50 hours a week wears you out. When I get time off, I just spend it all sleeping."

Liam made a sympathetic noise as he took a tentative sip of his steaming coffee. "I really lucked out with this job," he admitted. "I wasn't so good in school and flunked out of my first year of college, so it's nice to think I'm still good at something."

"School isn't for everyone," Zayn insisted, though he loved school himself – he had no time for regrets or shame from his past decisions, but he knew if things had played out differently that day, he would probably be in university in London. "I got expelled from school when I was sixteen for doing something really stupid. A lot of shit happened after that, which, long story short, was how I ended up in California."

"Why don't you go back?" Liam asked, and Zayn snorted.

"My dad disowned me. I can't afford it, especially not like this," he gestured down to his uniform. "I'm sorry, but, like, have you noticed where I work?" Liam frowned at his coffee. 

"I hope so; I'd be pretty dense if I didn't by now. I'm supposed to know this place pretty well."

"Speaking of, aren't you supposed to be starting soon?"

"Probably," Liam said, glancing at the watch on his wrist – the watch that looked like it cost more than the amount of Zayn's bi-weekly paychecks. "I should get dressed, but maybe I'll see you later," he said, and like every Saturday before, Zayn gave Liam the most awkward smile and wave combination he could muster before turning on the lights and properly opening up the front service area.

He saw Liam twice more that morning – once, briefly when he passed by in his stark white shirt, mumbling into his walkie-talkie about a disturbance in the parking lot, and again about an hour later escorting an elderly woman in the opposite direction.

Each time, Zayn's eyes locked onto Liam's back, watching those broad shoulders, thick biceps and perfect arse walk away from him again, and again. "Oh honey, you're not subtle," Louis said, sidling up to Zayn's counter, to which he shoved him away.

"Get back in the kitchen, boss."

"Aye, aye, captain," Louis snorted, and as a customer approaches, Louis disappeared into the back area again with a quick salute.

"Hi, welcome to Paul's Burgers. What can I get for you?" Zayn plastered a fake smile across his face, and braced himself.

"McChicken," the middle-aged woman demanded.

"We are not McDonalds," Zayn said, trying to keep his breathing even, "but we do offer a breaded chicken burger; would you like the meal with fries and a drink?" And Zayn's day went on, as the food court burst into life with each hour that ticked by, and Zayn's afternoon flew by in a frenzy of cheeseburgers, fries, and soft drinks.

He spied Liam twice in the afternoon; once, he was escorting a teenager with a skateboard outside, and the second time, he passed by with his co-worker on his way to the administration office. Zayn paused mid-action each time to ogle him, and his co-worker, Harry, a gangly, flighty teenager who only worked weekends openly laughed.

"Just go for it; it's pretty obvious he wants you too."

"You're too young to have an opinion about my love life," Zayn retorted pathetically, and Harry rolled his eyes, turning away looking unimpressed.

"Your shift is over. Go home," Harry told him, and Zayn didn't need to be told twice, clocking out and chucking his hat back into office. He walked down the office to the employee toilets quickly, and spent his time taking off his uniform and folding it into his backpack before tugging on his own chinos, shirt, jacket and sneakers. 

After an abysmal attempt to fix his flattened hair, he gave in and tossed a beanie on his head before washing his hands thoroughly, like it would scrub the ever-lingering scent of deep fried foods from his body (it never did).

He pulled open the door to the toilets absentmindedly, and didn't take note of his surroundings as he rushed down the hall in hopes he'd make the earlier bus that day, which was why he didn't notice Liam until he ran right into him with a soft "oof."

"Shit, I am so sorry, oh my god," Zayn let the words tumble out of his mouth in embarrassment as he righted himself, quickly backing away from Liam's solid body, legs shakings with every step. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"S'ok," Liam said, reaching out to steady Zayn. "Where's the fire?"

Zayn glanced down at the watch on Liam's wrist, and cringed. "I was hoping to make the early bus, but I probably missed it, honestly. It just means I've got to wait around for another hour and a half until the next one. I live on the other side of town."

Liam frowned. "Hey, if you want to wait, like, half an hour until my shift is over, I can drop you off. It'll probably be faster than the bus."

"No, you don't have to do that – I don't mind waiting," Zayn said, but Liam shook his head. 

"Meet me by the offices in 30 minutes," Liam demanded, and before Zayn could argue, he'd gone, leaving Zayn standing dumbfounded in the hallway. With nowhere left to go, he wandered back toward Paul's Burgers where Louis was filing paperwork at the desk.

"He's driving me home," Zayn said, flopping down on the chair next to Louis who raised an eyebrow. 

"He's willing to drive to the other side of town for you, and you say he doesn't want your ass?"

Zayn jutted out his bottom lip into a pout, and Louis sighed. "Why? He's just a nice guy, Lou."

"You're impossible," Louis sighed, wrapping Zayn in a one-armed hug. "C'mon, he's offering you a ride home. Invite him in for coffee or something."

"Yeah, maybe," Zayn mumbled into Louis' hair.

"Now shoo," Louis sighed. "I want to go home too, but I have to finish this first, and you're distracting me."

"Sorry, sorry," Zayn apologized, and spent the next 20 minutes wandering hopelessly around the mall debating whether or not to invite Liam in later that afternoon. When it was finally time to meet Liam, Zayn lingered outside the offices as he watched Liam forego changing and just toss a jacket over his uniform before waving goodbye to Niall, one of the mall's office staff.

"How was the rest of your shift?" Zayn asked as they walked through the parking lot together, out to the far corner where Liam parked every day.

"Boring; nothing happened, which is probably a good thing," Liam chuckled, opening the door and climbing into the driver's side, tossing his jacket off and into the back. "So Zayn, where do you live?"

The drive was filled with idle small talk as Zayn told Liam which way to turn; Liam flicked on the radio, and crooned along to the song that hummed softly in the background. Zayn bit his lip to stop the smile from spreading across his face, and listened to Liam's voice fill the awkward silence.

"This is me," Zayn said, and Liam pulled over into a parking space in front of Zayn's apartment. "Thank you so much for the ride, you didn't have to do that-"

"I wanted to," Liam said; he was looking right at Zayn, his warm brown eyes boring into Zayn's own, and he swallowed, before nervously looking down at Liam's hands, still poised over the steering wheel, the truck idling.

"If you like, you can come in for a bit – have a coffee. I've got that Batman movie you were talking about last week," Zayn offered Liam's knuckles shyly, and an undecipherable look twisted over Liam's features when Zayn looked up again.

"Sure," Liam said after a beat, switching off the truck. "Will I get towed if I park here?"

Zayn shook his head, and Liam followed him into the building. Zayn had a corner apartment on the ground floor; it was dark inside, like always – the high windows did nothing to let natural light into the rooms. He flicked on a few lights and tossed his backpack aside.

"Do you mind if I, uh, change?" Liam asked, glancing down at his uniform, to which Zayn felt his face involuntarily heat up. 

"You don't have to," he said quickly before he could stop himself, and his eyes widened in horror as another unrecognizable expression flickered across Liam's face. "I like it," he mumbled quietly, because at that point, there really wasn't any hope left – he may as well bury himself.

"You like it, hmm?" Liam asked, taking a cautious step forward toward the couch. Zayn had fallen onto it seconds earlier, ducking and hiding his face behind one of the cushions while he tried to stave off the blush on his cheeks. "So it's not just me, yeah? You feel it too?"

Zayn shook his head into the cushion, and Liam chuckled before gently prying it out of Zayn's grip. "C'mon, Zayn," he said softly. "Just me, yeah?"

"That's the problem," Zayn mumbled as Liam settled himself onto the couch, right next to Zayn, so that their thighs were pressed against each other. 

"Look at me, Zayn, please," Liam whispered, reaching forward to rub his thumb softly over Zayn's cheek. "Stop me if this isn't what you want," he said, leaning forward a bit. Zayn felt his breath hitch in his throat; his heart rate accelerated and his palms grew sweaty – Liam leaned closer. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?" 

"Okay," Zayn squeaked, and that was all he had time to say before Liam's lips were on his own. They were soft, but the movements were firm – Zayn relaxed against the touch as they moved against each other once Zayn grew past the initial shock of it all.

Liam tasted a bit like mint chewing gum and coffee; Zayn could feel the calluses on his fingers as he continued to stroke at Zayn's cheek before gently squeezing his shoulder and easing Zayn onto his back so that they were lying down on the couch.

His lips parted, and Zayn found the pressure of a warm tongue licking into his mouth. Liam explored the depths of his mouth until Zayn was gasping for air. He was nervous, blinking away the apprehension as he went, awkwardly trying to figure out where to leave his hands. Liam felt so big on top of him, blanketing him like a solid weight – Zayn reached up and dragged a tentative hand down the front of Liam's chest, over his shirt, and Liam smiled into the kiss, pushing down into the touch.

"Okay?" He asked, pulling off Zayn for a moment, who nodded, so Liam dropped his weight back down again. Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam's broad body, burying his nose into Liam's neck as lips danced along his cheek and the shell of his ear. A tongue flicked out to lick him, and Zayn couldn't help the giggle that bubbled from his chest. "You're adorable," Liam crowed, reaching down between them.

A warm hand slide up Zayn's body, under the t-shirt, and he shivered involuntarily at the touch, savoring the feeling of Liam's skin against his own. As Liam reattached his lips to Zayn's cheeks, Zayn worked on unbuttoning the uniform shirt Liam wore, exposing the white undershirt he wore below it. Of course, the undershirt was tucked neatly into the black pants, and Zayn felt it was necessary to unbutton and unzip those pants – only to free the shirt, of course.

And sometime after Liam wrestled the undershirt off, and pulled Zayn's t-shirt over his head as well, Liam fell back onto the couch, kicked off his black pants exposing the bulge of his grey briefs. "C'mon," he said, pulling Zayn close between his legs and thumbing open the button of his jeans. Zayn's eyes widened as Liam reached for the fly, chewing his bottom lip nervously like his brain had finally caught up to his dick.

"Yeah," he breathed, and then he was kicking off his own jeans and crawling onto Liam's lap without preamble, pressing their noses together in a shy Eskimo kiss before meeting his lips again. Zayn didn't notice when Liam splayed a big hand over the small of his back, too preoccupied with his mouth, but then Liam applied pressure, pushing Zayn forward until their hips met.

The sudden jolt of friction as their erections brushed through two layers of material was enough to elicit a lewd gasping noise from Zayn, who immediately flushed at the noise. "Oh, fuck," Liam gasped, and as if he was afraid of wasting time, dipped his hand lower, past the elastic until he was holding onto Zayn's arse, his finger casually brushing against Zayn's hole. 

It happened so fast; Liam tugged Zayn's underwear off properly, and then pulled his own off. Everything was a blur as Zayn wrapped one of his hands around them both, trembling, biting back a moan as their skin touched. Liam slicked up his fingers by pressing them between Zayn's lips, and then, with Liam two fingers deep in his hole, Zayn came in a rush, all over their stomachs, with nearly no warning whatsoever.

Trying not to let his humiliation distract him, as Liam was still hard, Zayn swiped a handful of his own come off his stomach before he wrapped his hand around Liam's swollen member, pumping him a few times, shaft to tip before swiping a thumb over the head and leaning forward, sucking a mark into Liam's neck to match his rhythm.

Liam came with a throaty moan, adding to Zayn's mess already covering their stomachs – Zayn kissed him through it shakily, working him with his hand until Liam cringed, oversensitive, and pushed him away. Zayn fell over, collapsing onto the cushions, struggling to remember what breathing was. 

"Shit," he choked out, once his head stopped spinning.

"Shit," Liam echoed, sounding equal parts awed and horrified. "We're a mess."

"C'mon," Zayn groaned, forcing his tired body into a standing position before offering Liam a hand up off the couch. "Let's go clean up."

It should've been easy after that; after Liam helped mop the dried come off Zayn's stomach with soft kisses and gentle touches exchanged between, it should've been perfect. But it wasn't. It was stiff and uncomfortable – Zayn didn't know how to fill the awkward silence that suddenly bubbled up between them. He didn't know what to do with his hands; he averted his eyes, tangled his fingers together awkwardly, and tried not to look too eager. 

Liam frowned, and placed a gentle hand on Zayn's shoulder as they approached the couch again. "Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

"If you want to leave now," Zayn said, tightening his hands fists at his sides, "You can."

"Oh, uh," Liam looked startled, and a bit like a kicked puppy, but he nodded, pulling his hand back and letting it fall limply at his side. "I can, uh, go, if you want me to."

Zayn didn't say anything, so Liam turned away, grabbing his clothes from the floor and carefully stepping into them before he grabbed his shoes. Zayn noticed he didn't tie his shoelaces before he was out the door. When Liam was gone, Zayn looked at the mess they'd left on the couch, and sank to his knees.

He was being foolish to think Liam would want more than what had just happened – foolish to think Liam would want a lowly man like himself, who didn't even have a high school certificate or equivalent to his name.

Zayn called in sick to work for the next two days, but ultimately, he knew avoidance was not helping his case – and he needed the money, perhaps more than he was willing to admit. So once again, he buttoned up his uniform, and went to work.

"Liam was asking about you; you certainly don't look sick," Louis told him suspiciously, but didn't get a chance to say much else as the lunch rush halted conversation. Luckily, Louis was gone by the time Zayn had his break, the entirety he spent hiding in a corner. He closed with Harry that night, the other boy distracted by his own high spirits about a concert he was attending that night, distracting Zayn long enough to get all his closing duties completed and all the equipment cleaned.

He took his time in the toilets, trying to fix his hair and dress himself properly, he didn't realize he was about to miss the last bus. Panicked, he ran from the toilets and down the hall, once again colliding with a solid chest in the process. "Fuck, I am so sorry-" he looked up, and swallowed hard, as Liam wrapped one of his big hands tightly around Zayn's bicep so that he wouldn't topple sideways from the crash.

"I'll drop you," Liam said. 

"No, it's fine-"

"Your bus left five minutes ago," Liam said, and Zayn deflated, nodding.

"It did."

"So," Liam said, cornering Zayn easily in the hallway, "Do you want to tell me why you called in sick the last two days?"

"Maybe I was sick," Zayn snorted; he looked everywhere but Liam, unable to meet his eyes. Instead, he focused on the flickering light above their heads and thought about contacting maintenance to fix it later that week. 

"You weren't sick," Liam said, and Zayn knew he'd been caught.

"I didn't know what to say to you," he blurted; he felt overwhelmed with it all, but as Liam pressed closer to him, arms on either side of his body, keeping him close to the wall, he should've felt claustrophobic. Instead, he just wanted to pull Liam closer, and keep him there.

"A hello would've been okay," Liam mumbled, his mouth awfully close to Zayn's. Zayn swallowed hard; he could see Liam's eyes following the line of his throat as he did.

"I didn't know what you wanted from me," Zayn continued, before Liam could get any closer. "Like, I'm nothing special and you're this – you're this fucking, ugh, you're perfect, okay? And I don't, like, want to get you fired or anything for fraternizing during work-"

"I'm off shift," Liam growled, leaning his forehead against Zayn's. Zayn forgot to breathe.

"Oh."

"And God, Zayn, have you ever looked at yourself? You're talking about perfect? You're so fucking fit that I've been drinking shit coffee for three months as an excuse to make small talk to you ever Saturday."

"Oh."

"Oh yourself," Liam laughed, and it was Zayn this time that closed the gap between them. Liam tasted the same as he had the time before, a bit like coffee and mint chewing gum. His hands were hard and rough against Zayn's side, already creeping up his shirt as they kissed eagerly against the wall.

Zayn thrust his hips forward to meet Liam's, and as they kissed, he could feel the bulge growing until Liam was hard and rocking against Zayn's thigh. "C'mon, fuck me, please," Zayn moaned, looking at Liam's thick biceps hungrily. "Always wanted to know if you could hold me up and fuck me against the wall."

"Bet I could," Liam growled, and in one swift movement, he untangled his hands from Zayn's hair (when had they gotten there?) and slipped the button off Zayn's jeans. Once Zayn was sufficiently naked from the waist down, Liam spat into his hand and wrapped it around Zayn's length, stroking him to full hardness before pressing his fingers against Zayn's hole.

With only spit to ease the way, Zayn opened up surprisingly easily, eagerly taking Liam's fingers, panting against his shoulder. "C'mon babe, please," Zayn begged, and Liam inserted the second finger. Zayn could already feel the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, on edge and desperate for it. Sweat dripped down his brow as Liam took his time, carefully stretching Zayn open with three fingers, working them in and out until he found Zayn's prostate.

"You're beautiful like this. I want to see this every day," Liam hummed into Zayn's ear as he reached down to undo his own uniform trousers. He got them off halfway, tugging his underwear down with them before lining up at Zayn's entrance. "Ready?"

"I was ready three days ago," Zayn huffed, and then Liam was guiding himself inside, filling Zayn up with his cock. 

The stretch was a welcome feeling; Zayn could feel Liam all around him as big hands heaved him up by the thighs, and Liam pressed him against the wall. It felt cool against his back where his shirt had ridden up. Liam felt thick and hard inside him, and as Liam lifted Zayn and dropped him back down onto his own dick, they both let out inhuman noises of pleasure. 

It didn't take long after that, a few thrusts at most, before Liam was hitting Zayn's sweet spot over and again. Zayn had wrapped his legs around Liam's waist and was bearing down to meet his thrusts, his whole body trembling, so affected by this sudden feeling of fullness that invaded all his senses at once.

And it was Liam – Liam everywhere, holding him upright, keeping his breathing steady and his heart beating. It was Liam above him, around him, in front of him, and inside him, kissing him – his lips, his tongue, his teeth, nipping and licking and diving into Zayn's mouth like he'd never kiss another man again.

Zayn reached down and jerked himself off as Liam thrust deeply into him, shifting a bit and changing the angle so that he hit Zayn's prostate every time with his punctuated thrusts. "Shit, I'm not going to last-"

"Love your filthy mouth," Liam moaned, and he came seconds after Zayn, filling him up with his spunk. As he came down, Liam gently eased Zayn off his dick, and lowered him to the ground where they both struggled into the nearby toilets to clean themselves off and tug their clothes back on properly.

"I am so sorry," Liam said afterward, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "The fucking wall, like, I couldn't even take you into the bathroom-"

"I liked it," Zayn said, looking up at Liam, doe-eyed and blissed out. "Like, I really liked it. I liked that you were wearing your uniform, and I liked that you can hold me up like that. Think you can do it in the shower?"

"I, what?" Liam asked, looking a bit gobsmacked. 

"Yeah," Zayn giggled. "Wanna come over?"

"Are we ever going to talk about this?"

"Probably," Zayn shrugged. "But I want to test out this shower thing first," he grinned, strutting down the hall, ahead of Liam. Liam just shook his head, and slowly walked behind Zayn all the way to his own truck.

(The next day at work, Niall informed Liam that if he ever needed to casually turn off a security camera again, he'd tell Liam's boss, and that he could probably never look Zayn in the eye again. Liam didn't care, because the shower sex along with the night they'd spent together afterward was worth far more than his job.)

**Author's Note:**

> Since it's 12:26 right now, it's no longer my birthday, but I did write this for myself, since, y'know, birthday and I can do what I want.  
> I'm 22 now. I'm old.
> 
> And I work a shit fast food job at a mall when I'm not at school, but the super hot security guard that comes by every morning to say hi makes it worth it. (I'd give wall-sex with him a try if he'd let me)


End file.
